The One Medallion
by Elevanya
Summary: Bitter at being denied joining the Fellowship, Weylven, follows after determined to join whether they want her or not. Then something strange happens and she ends up in a place called Port Royale. Crossover between POTC and LOTR.
1. Prologue: Crossing Waters

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Pirates of the Carribean or Lord of the Rings, but this particular story and anything in it you don't recognize does belong to me so don't steal it or I will set my army of pink polar bears on you._

_A/N: This fic is a crossover between Pirates of the Carribean and Lord of the Rings. It mostly takes place in Pirates of the Carribean, but at some point I might go to Middle Earth, I really don't know yet. I warn you now that my character does NOT fall in love with either Jack or Will, let alone any of the other characters, so if that is what you were looking for, sorry, but it's your fault for reading this story after my warning. I apologize for any errors, grammatically or otherwise. Well, on with the story, shall we?_

Prologue

Crossing Waters

Weylven sprang from the tree and landed lightly, making hardly a sound in the leaf litter. She watched as the Fellowship of the Ring made their way out of Rivendell, weaving among well wishers and vanishing into the woods beyond.

She had come all the way from Mirkwood with Legolas, and was one of the few aware of why they were truly called to council. Even then she had longed to help whoever became the Ringbearer, but even access to the council had been denied her. It irked Weylven how despite being just as good a warrior as Legolas she had been forbidden to serve her people as Legolas did. Even several untrained _hobbits_ had been accepted over her!

Gritting her teeth, the elf made her way down to the river where, hopefully, a paddle boat waited for her. With any luck she would catch up to the Fellowship before dark. They could not turn her away then! Eager to get going, she quickly checked to make sure her bow and quiver were securely in place. She made sure everything she needed was in her pack; food for several weeks journey, flint and tinder, several candles, a spare cloak, breeches, and tunic, any money she had been able to find, and anything else that might be useful. Assured by the familiar weight of her sword at her hip, she double checked the daggers she had strapped to her boot and sword belt. Satisfied that all was in its place, she pushed the boat from the sure and leaped in.

The oar cut smoothly through the sparkling water as she paddled out into the center of the river. With one last look over her shoulder at the shining city of Rivendell, she shook off all thoughts of doubt that lingered like a cloak draped over her and turned her attention to the currents that pulled at the boat.

Twilight fell like a shroud and then gradually faded to night. Weylven looked up at the stars to check whether she had gone past where she could land her boat, but she was dismayed to find the sky to be filled with such utter blackness that even the possibility of light seemed unthinkable.

An irrational fear seized her causing her heart to stop its frantic beating for a few moments. She tried to breathe, but icy shards drove painfully into her lungs with every breath. Weylven closed her eyes and forced them open again. For a second bright daylight dazzled her. Daylight? Then her vision cleared and she staggered at what she saw.

Ships surrounded her, filling the harbor that had replaced the quiet river. On the shore she could see a bustling port town, but one quite unlike anything she had seen, man or elven made. A shape caught her attention. Her keen eyes made out the shape of a woman in a ridiculously large dress plummeting from the cliff and shouts of alarm reached her ears.

Without hesitating, Weylven plunged into the water, vaguely aware that a man from the docks had done the same, or at least was preparing to. The second before he jumped a pulse of powerful summoning radiated out from the drowning woman and tore through Weylven. She found it hard to resist the pull.

She faltered, her arms suddenly leaden with dread. Surely the Ring could not be here, wherever here was! It would bode gravely ill for all of Middle Earth if the One Ring escaped Frodo. Loathe to come into any contact with what might be the One Ring, Weylven hung back to let the man help the drowning woman. She watched impassively as they struggled to the surface. When her lungs finally burned for air she swam back to the boat and swiftly rowed ashore.

There was an outcry on the far end of the dock and the man that had saved the woman was running. What an odd place that a life saver would run from authority.

The man's voice drifted to her on the wind. "You will always remember this day as the day you _almost_ caught Captain Jack Sparrow!"

Weylven shrugged and handed the dock master a coin. His eyebrow rose at the strange currency, but with one sight of her sword and bow he was content to bid her a good day and return to his work.

The elf walked away, puzzling out the words the man had shouted. It was different than the human tongue she was familiar with, but with much thought she managed to divine a meaning. With a puzzled frown, she set out to see what kind of town this "Port Royale" was.

_A/N: I know it was short, but its a prologue so I'm allowed. Once again I apologize for any errors whether they be typos or not. Now if you really like the story click the little blue box and the voices in my head will be happily reading reviews leaving time for me to write. I need to know what you think. Thankies!_


	2. That Is Really Quite Annoying

_Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, nor do I own Lord of the Rings (though I wish I did, alas,) but I do own this story and anything you don't recognize so PAWS OFF! Thankies._

_A/N: Thankies go to DanCrazed, (I now know who my true readers are) and to those of you who read but did not review(I know you are out there!) my pink polar bears are hunting you so I suggest you hide. I should probably stop talking by now, the voices in my head are telling me that you have probably had enough of me and want to read. Well, their wish is my command. On with the story!_

Chapter 1

That is really quite annoying.

She walked sedately down the main road, pack slung over her shoulder carelessly as she had not yet been able to find an inn that would accept her money. Still, it had been valuable practice of this new language that she had not quite grasped. At least it was similar enough to the human tongue she knew for her to understand and be understood by others.

Weylven sidestepped one of the pirates that had attacked the port on a ship called _The Black Pearl_. What a strange name. Pearls were white, not black.

People ran past, some screaming, others brandishing all manor of weapons from swords to kitchen knives. So far no one had tried to attack her, but it would happen eventually. She would stay on her guard.

As she continued to walk, she watched with some curiosity if not amusement. These humans fought like barbarians, or orcs, there was no way they hand nay contact with either Gondor or Rohan. The styles of fighting were completely different. Perhaps they were wild men.

Suddenly a knife whistled past her, inches away from her head. Only her keen hearing and quick reflexes had saved her. Now _that_ was quite annoying. Her eyes locked on the pirate, burning with anger. Fluidly, she drew her bow and nocked a single gray-fletched arrow. The shaft barely touched the string before flying into the pirate's chest. The man merely looked down at the shaft protruding from his chest and back at her. He smiled. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. Calmly, she replaced her bow on her back and drew her sword. Good steel would accomplish what her arrow had failed. After only moments her sword slid home and she yanked both blade and arrow out of the corpse before plunging deeper into the chaos. After several more quick yet depressingly easy duels, Weylven found herself facing off the same pirate who had drawn her into battle. A exasperated sigh escaped her. Eru, even Uri'kai died the first time and stayed dead! Not even bothering with her bow, the elf lazily loped off the head of her opponent, killing him once again. That should do it.

She fought for a while more but began to grow bored. She should have been protecting Frodo an killing orcs, not an slaughtering an endless supply of pirates in some barbarian port town! The anger of being excluded from the Fellowship simply because she was female rose to the surface and boiled sluggishly through her veins. I. Should. Be. In. The. Fellowship. Weylven thought, punctuating each word with a thrust or stab to a faceless opponent. Finally her anger cooled and she walked away from the fighting towards the shore, determined to paddle her boat back to Rivendell and catch up with the Fellowship no matter what it took.

Serenely, she wiped her bloodied sword on a fallen man's ragged shirt and sheathed the weapon. With no sign of fatigue or of the fighting or killing she had done, she lithely weaved through those still doing battle and into the dark night.

It took her longer to reach the shore than she had expected. The sun was already high in the horizon and the day was bright as she walked down the dock to her boat. She was dismayed to find it gone, then anger replaced confusion. She would kill the man who had stolen her boat! Impatiently, Weylven scanned the waters with her acute elf-sight. No gray leaf-like paddle boat in sight. She turned her attention to the shore and on the white sand several hundred meters down the beach she saw two men struggling to get it into the water. She would kill them! She fumed.

Swiftly she ran, but just as quietly as the wind, not waiting for people to move barrels out of the way she simply jumped them. Several dock workers stared as she passed, but none tried to follow or stop her. Soon she was on the beach only several strides from the theives. They did not seem to notice her, so absorbed were they in their battle with her boat.

She rolled her eyes. Men were so oblivious sometimes. Her sword slid from its sheath without a sound and she placed it warningly against the dark haired man's throat. He was the one who seemed most in charge. He stiffened at the cold steel next to the skin of his neck and he turned slowly. She was surprised to see that this was the man who had saved the woman and called himself Jack Sparrow, but she did not lower her weapon.

"You know that is really quite annoying, Jack of Sparrow," She growled. "I would appreciate it if you did not steal my boat, I have need of it."

"Commandeer." was all he said.

"Pardon?"

"Commandeer, luv, the correct word is commandeer."

"It is usually unwise to correct the one who has a sword at your neck." Weylven remarked dryly, putting slight pressure on the blade, "And my name is not 'luv'."

"What is your name then?" The brown haired boy asked, clearly trying to cover the way his hand was drifting to his sword hilt.

"Do not even think to draw your sword boy," she advised him, satisfied to see him stiffen at the term boy used on him. For humans he was clearly a man, but even the oldest man was a child compared to her.

"I am no 'boy'. My name is Will Turner."

"Compared to me, Will of Turner, you are."

She smiled as she watched him puzzle this out, but soon she grew bored and turned her attention back to Jack. "Why is it you want my boat?" She demanded.

"We were going to return it," immediately she knew this was a lie, but she let him continue, "And we wanted it to get to," he pointed with his finger, but Weylven did not turn to look, "that ship."

"I still do not see what you need with _my_ boat."  
"Let us borrow it, mate, and you will see."

Weylven considered this for a moment then decided. After all, what harm could it do.

"Very well, Jack of Sparrow, but only if I accompany you."

She watched as the man considered this, not lowering her sword to remind him of what would happen if he attempted to take the boat and leave her behind. He smiled at her.

"Welcome to the crew, mate."

Weylven smiled back as she lowered and sheathed her sword. Nodding her head in assent, Weylven lifted the boat easily and set it in the water. "Now, show me what it is you intend."

_A/N: I know its short, and I am sorry :Hangs head sadly: but I am the author and there is nothing you can do about it Mwahahaha! Pleeeeeeaassse review! It will make the voices in my head leave me alone long enough to post the next chapter. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but flames will be thrown to my pink polar bears and torn to shreds._


	3. Commandeer, Steal, What's The Difference

_Disclaimer: I wish I owned Pirates of the Caribbean and Lord of the Rings, but I do not. This story and anything you don't recognize does belong to me however so no touchy!_

_A/N: Thankies once again go to DanCrazed(You were right about Will having dark hair and I changed it, I think), as for the rest of you I am very disappointed and I won't call off my polar bears until you REVIEW! You may still read what I post, though, but it may take longer for me to add more if you remain silent and don't review. _

Chapter 2

Commandeer, Steal, I Can't Tell The Difference

Walking underwater using the boat to breathe was ingenious, quite unexpected from the pirate. Weylven still thought it would have been more productive to use the boat as a boat, but still, she had to admire Jack's creativity. The elf lightly stepped on a strange wooden contraption, but the wooden slats didn't break underneath her foot. Will was not so fortunate and he trailed the object several yards on his foot before finally shaking it free. Weylven smiled in amusement as the boy glared at her back.

After walking for several more minutes, she soon began to grow bored of staring at Jack's unruly hair and the gray woodgrain of the boat. Her mind drifted to her weapons. The sword would not rust, it was made of good elven steel. She was worried about her bow however. She had waxed the bowstring against rain, but even wax would not keep it completely dry while being soaked thoroughly in sea water. Her arrows could not stand the water well either. The fletching would undoubtedly be destroyed if soaked in water to long and Weylven did not know where she could find good feathers in this land.

Abruptly, Jack stopped, his voice echoing hollowly in the confined space. "The anchor rope's right there. We can use it to climb up to the Dauntless." Without waiting for their assent he put words into action and disappeared. Will followed soon after, but Weylven waited a moment. How would she haul her boat up with her? A plan formed quickly in her mind and she swam to she surface, keeping a firm grip on the boat.

The elf quickly flipped it over and tied it securely to the anchor rope. Nimbly she climbed up to the ship and grabbed a long rope that apparently was tied to the mast, for what reason she couldn't fathom, but it would do for what she needed.

Weylven went to the rail and looked down at where her boat waited. Unfazed by the drop she leaped over the side of the ship. Will cried out in alarm, but she ignored him. When she landed in her small gray boat she tied the rope she held to it's prow, undid the tie securing it to the anchor line and scaled the side of the Dauntless once again. All that was left was to haul the little boat aboard. Jack looked on with a slightly stunned look and she simply arched one blond eyebrow at him. Did he expect her to leave her boat behind?

Apparently while she had been retrieving her boat, Jack and Will had chased the crew off the ship. Now they simply had to wait for the Royal Navy to come and try to capture them on another ship called the Interceptor. Weylven still did not understand how a navy could be royal, but this was a strange land. Right on cue another ship that looked remarkably similar to the Dauntless came into view. When they were close enough men in red uniforms began to stream on board using ropes.

Jack and Will swung onto the Interceptor, but Weylven was unable to find a rope. Sighing at the inconvenience, she climbed halfway up the mast and jumped the distance. She landed catlike on her feet, leather boots sliding slightly on the Interceptor's smooth deck. Will stared at her with his mouth agape. These barbarians were so uneducated. Every elf could leap that distance in their sleep, maybe he had not yet noticed her ears.

Weylven cursed under her breath. Her boat! She ran hurriedly to the rail and poised to jump back and retrieve it. A hand gripped her arm and hauled her back.

"Are you crazy. You go back and they'll hang you for helping a pirate." Jack's protest fell on deaf ears.

"They would not dare." Weylven hissed angrily. Pulling her hair back from her face and tucking it behind her ears.

Jack backed up slowly as if from a viper.

"What is it, Jack of Sparrow. Have I frightened you?"

"What are you?" Will asked breathlessly.

"I am Weylven, part of the elf envoy to Rivendell from Mirkwood." She was surprised that they did not recognize the places.

"Elf?"

"Do you think a human could have jumped that distance?" Weylven inquired politely, careful not to insult him. Immediately it was clear he did not think that and she turned her attention back to the job of retrieving her boat. She growled under her breath when she saw that while she spoke Jack had moved the ship out of the harbor. There was no going back now.

Stalking angrily away from the men, she climbed up the mast and perched on one of the crossbeams. Glad to breathe the salt air of the sea she set to cleaning her sword and insuring that her bowstring and feathers had not become to damaged. She was fortunate and her quiver had remained watertight.

Shouts reached her sensitive ears and she looked down to see Jack and Will arguing about something. Words drifted up and she managed to catch snatches. Something about a man called William Turner who was also a pirate, one Bootstrap Bill. Will seemed to have a problem with his father being such. The argument ended with Jack saying something along the lines of "Can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not?" Weylven couldn't see how this mattered much. They didn't really have a choice if they wanted to sail this ship, now did they. Men always wasted time with trivialities, no not just human men, all males.

Weylven let herself fall from the mast and landed on the deck near Jack.

"Captain Jack of Sparrow?" She asked.

"Why do you call me that anyway 'Jack of Sparrow'?"

Weylven was confused. "Are you not Jack from the land called Sparrow, just as I am Weylven of Mirkwood?"

"Sparrow is just my last name, I'm not from a place called Sparrow."

"And Will Turner is not from Turner?"

"Yes."

This was interesting, but she had other things she needed to know.

"Well Jack Sparrow, where are we bound?"

"Tortuga." Jack said the word as if it needed no other explanation.

_A/N: I know it's short, but I need to sleep at some point. I'll try and post the next chapter soon, but it will be sooner if you simply click the little blue box and REVIEW! That will make the voices in my head leave me alone long enough to write more. _


	4. Did You Threaten Him With A Sword

_Disclaimer:I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, nor do I own Lord of the Rings, alas._

_A/N: Sorry it took so long, but one of my pink polar bears was sick and I had to take care of it. I was also computer-less for two weeks somewhere in there (:Gasp: I know horrible.) Also school has started and already I have several essays to write. I would like to thank my lovely reviewers Maddison, DanCrazed, and Sugar-high pixie. To those of you who read and didn't review :Hangs head sadly: I regret to inform you that you are a target of a pink polar bear attack. I suggest you hide. Well, to Tortuga we go..._

Chapter 3

Did you threaten him with a sword?

They walked from the dock, following Jack closely. Jack had told her that she didn't need to bring _all_ of her weapons, but it was customary for Weylven, as a warrior, to plan for the worst. Will seemed content with his one sword, and Jack with his pistol thing, but she was loathe to part from any of her weapons. Perhaps it was that she still did not trust Jack, or Will for that matter. Despite his apparent cluelessness, he did still try to steal her boat.

As they made their way deeper into the town, it became obvious that this was as barbaric compared to Port Royale as Port Royale to Rivendell. It was appalling. Weylven scowled and turned her attention to where Jack was. Lined up were several overly dressed ladies with paint plastered on their faces as if they were life size dolls. Each took a turn in slapping Jack after speaking a few words to him, and him denying that he deserved it. For a second, she considered drawing her bow and frightening the women off, but they clearly would not do serious injury to him, and it was amusing. Perhaps she should take a turn. He certainly deserved it after stealing making her leave behind her boat.

The last woman passed by Weylven and stopped to look her over.

"So you must be his new plaything. Watch your back, beautiful." The woman hissed, loud enough for those around to hear.

Weylven scowled at the deplorable person, astonished she could even suggest such a thing. In one fluid motion, she had her bow out and an arrow nocked pointing directly to the woman. Fear flickered in her eyes, and her eyes widened, though it was hard to tell with all the paint.

"Suggest anything like that again, and you will get an arrow down your throat. I am no man's _plaything_!" the elf growled dangerously, outraged to be treated so. Didn't these barbarians know anything about elves?

The woman backed away in fear. Once she was several paces away, she turned, hiked up her skirts, and ran. Weylven lowered her bow, ignoring the astonished and frightened looks of those around her. Both Jack and Will were staring at her as if she had suddenly turned into an orc.

"Shall we go?" She asked calmly, replacing her bow and arrow in her quiver. She turned and began walking without waiting and the two men hurried to catch up.

"Remind me never to get on her bad side," Jack whispered to Will when they caught up. Obviously, they had not idea how sensitive her elf ears were, or they would have spoken quieter, much quieter. Weylven smiled.

Considering she did not know the way, Weylven yielded the lead to Jack, but regretted it when they ended up walking into something that resembled a barn. Weylven wrinkled her nose at the smell, but had no choice but to follow. Jack stopped at the edge of a pig pen, and threw a bucket of water onto the grimy filthy man sleeping. Immediately, as was predictable, the irritable man began cursing, before he noticed who it was that had thrown the water on him.

"Jack! You know it's bad luck to wake a man when he's sleeping."

Jack merely set down the now empty barrel and looked him straight in the eye. "Well, fortunately, I know how to counter that bad luck." He then proceeded to explain the details in an overly confusing and unnecessary rant. It was really rather boring and Weylven found her mind wandering. She was jerked back to herself when Will, being the slow person he is, dumped yet another barrel of water on the already soaked and irate man.

"Blast, I'm already awake!" He yelled.

"That was for the smell." Despite the fact that he had no manners whatsoever, Weylven couldn't help but agree with Will's statement.

It seemed that the man thought the same, for he nodded and extended a hand for someone to help him up. Jack pulled him to his feet and lead them all to what seemed to be a tavern. Weylven could not tell the difference between this tavern and the street. Frowning in disgust, she had no choice but to follow them in. Almost immediately, Jack pulled their new friend, though she wasn't sure if friend was the right word, over to a vacant table, leaving her and Will to fend for themselves. Weylven stood, back to a large wooden pillar, in the center of the room, alert and watchful as she had been trained to be. She could see nearly every part of the room, except for the part behind the pillar, which included Jack's table, but she could hear perfectly well what was going on.

Will, seeing what she was doing, and thinking it was a good idea, attempted to emulate her. Though it was a shoddy job, and he didn't manage the same watchful, yet relaxed stillness that was almost second nature to Weylven.

Dividing her attention between the room and Jack's conversation with the man known as Gibbs, she listened closely to what they were saying. It was obvious they did not know how sensitive an elf's ears were.

"That is Will Turner, son of Bootstrap Bill Turner." Jack was saying.

"Leverage says you," Gibbs responded and Weylven could almost see his smile. Will stiffened and she knew he had heard as well. "Change in the winds says I."

The elf frowned. She didn't like people who used others that way. That was Sauron's work, and her kind had no want or need for that kind of deception. Was she working to regain the Ring for the Fellowship or was she merely helping it get into the Dark Lord's hands faster. Was there a distinction any more when one side treated people as items to barter with and the other fought with an undead army? She pondered this strange thought all the rest of that night and part of the next morning when Gibbs arrived at the dock with the crew he had found.

Weylven and Will stayed close behind Jack and Gibbs as the Captain reviewed his crew. At the end he stopped before someone with a large brimmed hat covering their face. Weylven immediately knew it was a woman, but it took Jack a little bit longer to realize. When he did, he flinched and took the hat off her head. Black waves of hair tumbled from her head framing her tanned scowling face.

"Annamaria." Jack said, but was cut short by a ringing slap to his cheek. Weylven smirked.

"And I suppose you didn't deserve that one too?" Will inquired sweetly, apparently as amused as Weylven was.

"No, actually that one I deserved."

"You stole my boat!" Annamaria protested acidly.

Weylven's mirth faded. "Did you threaten him with a sword to get it back?"

Annamaria glared at the elf, but didn't get a chance to say something in reply for she was cut off by Will.

"He'll get you a another boat."

"Yes," Jack agreed, "another boat."

"A better boat," Will added when he saw Annamaria was interested, and Jack parroted him.

"That one," Will pointed to the Interceptor.

Jack agreed before looking, but when he did he glowered at Will. "Aye, that one. Well what do ye say?"

"Aye!" The new crew shouted as one.

As they began to walk back to the ship, Gibbs spoke up. "But Captain, you know it be bad luck to bring a woman aboard!"

Weylven growled. It seemed that no matter where she went men always considered themselves superior. "Excuse me?" She hissed dangerously to Gibbs, her hand hovering by her bow. Gibbs stammered and apology and backed away quickly. Weylven let herself relax slightly and nodded towards Annamaria. The other woman looked at her with respect and returned the nod. The elf then pushed past the crew and made her way to the crows nest where she could get a bit of quiet. Maybe she would drill a little. At the top of the swaying mast it would be a challenge to keep her balance while going through the more difficult forms, but as always she relished a challenge. What was life without a little danger?

_A/N: There another chapter, sorry it took so long. I know that in Return of the King Aragorn uses an undead army, but Weylven can't see the future so she doesn't know about that. Please review!_


	5. Clouded Stars

_Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean; nor do I own Lord of the Rings. I'm sorry to disappoint you._

_A/N: I'm SOOOO sorry it took so long for me to update! I kept meaning to, but with school and writer's block I was having issues. I would like to thank my most favoritist of people, my reviewers, Dan Crazed, Sugar-high Pixie, and Princess Abbie of Stars. Now back to the story._

Chapter 4

Clouded Stars

"By the Valar!" Weylven exclaimed as she felt the wind rock the ship violently. The mast shuddered beneath her in the gale that pulled the sail taut.

Sailors shouted from the deck below, hastening to secure anything that might be swept away by the waves washing over the side. She clambered carefully down the slippery rain swept wood of the main mast, not trusting her footing enough to land from a jump. Men rushed past her, climbing nimbly up the rigging like spiders on their webs. Loose ropes lashed back and forth like vines in the wind. Her soft-soled boots came in contact with the deck, the leather sliding slightly, as she reached the bottom of the mast. Lightning seared the sky, forking through the blackness in bright bursts of light. Clouds roiled angrily blocking out any light from the stars or moon.

Unsure of what to do, she ran towards the wheel where the Capitan stood, holding the ship steady.

"Jack Sparrow!" She called, attempting to make herself heard over the roar of the wind and surf.

"What is it, luv?" He answered cheerfully.

"My name is not 'luv'."

"I know that, but what brings you down from your perch?"

Weylven scowled at his lighthearted tone. "Why are you in such a fine mood, this storm could very well sink the ship!"

"We're catching up." Was Jack's answer.

"Eru! All you care about is that Sauron-cursed ship! Why not worry about the ship that we are actually on first." The elf fumed, as frustrated with herself at losing her temper as she was with the Captain.

"Well, luv, don't know who this Sauron fellow is, but I'm pretty sure this old girl will hold out fine."

No longer interested in bandying words with the unmovable pirate, Weylven gracefully stalked off to find a corner in which she could wait out the storm without being swept overboard.

_A/N: That's it for now, I'm so sorry it is so short, but I still have writer's block. I just wanted to give people something to read before they riot, or something equally unpleasant. I feel so bad, but I would have felt worse if I had waited until I had a longer chapter to update. That probably would have taken a while. Please REVIEW, anyway, and I'll understand if you hate me. REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!_


	6. The Lure of Treasure

_Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR...nor do I own POTC, sorry to disappoint you. _

_A/N: I'm back. I am soooo sorry for the last chapter. It was short but I had writer's block. I have re-watched the movie and I think this chapter will make up for it. I'll try and make it longer, but I'm still have a bit of a block. Thank you to my reviewer of the last chapter...Sugar-high pixie, you have my endless thanks for reviewing despite the crappy chapter. _

Chapter 5

The Lure of Treasure

"What do we do if the worst should happen?"

"Keep to the code," Jack answered Gibbs seriously. It was the first time Weylven had heard that particular tone in his voice. She blinked slightly surprised, but let no more of it show on her face.

"The boy and I are to go ashore" the Captain had said. He hadn't included her in that statement, and something told her that he hadn't even considered bringing her along as backup. _That_ galled. Suddenly she was reminded of the Fellowship and how she had not even been considered for that as well. Now it was happening a second time with, albeit a smaller Fellowship, but a fellowship nonetheless. Fighting men always looked at her as a weak female first, and rarely and only after she had thrashed them soundly, as a fellow warrior. Well it wasn't happening again. She wouldn't let it. Thinking hard, she absently followed Jack and Will's progress with her eyes. Suddenly she smiled. Weylven quickly checked to make sure her various weapons were secure before walking sedately to the rail above where Jack and Will were being lowered in one of the row boats.

Will looked up and waved, doubtless thinking she was there merely to send them off with a wish for luck. More fool him. Both he and Jack looked at her as if she were mad as she casually slung first one leg and then the other over the railing and dropped down into the small boat. The small wooden craft rocked slightly on her impact, but other than unsettling the two men, no damage was done.

"What're ya doing luv?" Jack asked skeptically.

"Accompanying you to this Isle."

"No, you are not."

"And why is that?" Weylven countered, settling down calmly. She arranged her cloak about her to keep of the majority of the sea spray and waited patiently for Jack to think up an excuse to send her back, or at least try to.

"Well..."

"It will be dangerous," Will supplied when it became apparent that Jack could not think of something.

"Exactly why I have joined you." Weylven said stoically. "I am the better fighter. You know this. It is useless to sit here wasting time. I was under the impression you were in a hurry to save this woman, but if you wish to sit here debating, then by all means, continue."

Will blinked, but took the oars and began rowing them towards the mouth of the cavern that yawned darkly at them from behind jagged cliffs and rocks of the isle.

"What is the code they are supposed to follow?" Will asked after a short while. They had entered the cave by that time and Weylven was looking around in wonder at the pale ghostly forms of stalactites and stalagmites. The stone glittered with minerals left behind by decades of slowly dripping water. The glitter of the stone was outmatched only by the sporadic piles of golden coins and chains as well as other artifacts made of various valuable metals and gems. Weylven had to pull her thoughts back to what Will was saying. Jack's response might be important.

"The pirate's code. Any man who falls behind, is left behind."

"Not much honor among pirates," Will remarked dryly when it became clear that Jack was not going to elaborate.

"I believe it is a good idea." Weylven commented, then seeing the lack of comprehension in Will's eyes, she hastened to explain. "Would it be better for one to be captured by the enemy and allow the others to escape to carry on, or for all to be captured in their attempt to wait or rescue the one who was to slow to keep up and possibly compromise the mission? It is noble of the one left to sacrifice his or her self to ensure the safety of the others and their mission."

Will frowned as if he had not considered this angle.

"You know for someone with such a low opinion of pirates you are fast on your way to becoming one yourself." Jack said and when he earned a disbelieving glance from Will, he continued.

"You sprung a pirate out of jail, commandeered a ship, sailed out of Tortuga with a buccaneer crew, and..." Jack stopped dramatically as Will looked over the side at golden coins that shimmered up at him through the water, "you are completely obsessed with treasure."

"I am _not obsessed _with treasure!"

The boat ran aground and Jack jumped out. Weylven leaped onto the shore slightly past him and went ahead to scout. When she was out of eyesight, but not the range of her sensitive elf ears, she heard Jack's answer to Will's denial. "Not all treasure's silver and gold mate."

Weylven smiled slightly to herself, waiting patiently for her eyes to adjust to the low light in the tunnel. She could hear sounds up ahead and decided to follow. There was really no need for her to go back and warn the men unless someone was coming their way.

The sounds grew louder as she approached and it became easy to distinguish between the sounds. She hadn't run into any guards and she was fairly confident that the pirates were to secure in the thought that no one else could find the Isle to even think of posting lookouts. Weylven grimaced, but had to acknowledge that their laxness made it that much easier for her.

She turned a corner and stepped back hastily. Almost directly in front of the entrance was a throng of pirates, roaring encouragement at a man set up higher. The man had a thick beard and a wild gleam in his eyes that made Weylven uncomfortable and reminded her slightly of Saruman. Beside him was a woman wearing a heavy red dress. Weylven shuddered when she saw the glint of gold around her neck. It was a strange shape, however, like a medallion. Perhaps Sauron had shaped another token of power. If so it boded ill for all of MiddleEarth. The Ring's call seemed to be muted, but Weylven could sense it in her bones. Her eyes fell on the chest in front of the pair and her stomach dropped to the ground. Gold glinted within it, pieces exactly like the one hanging from around the woman's neck. Numbly she shook her head and looked again, hoping she was mistaken. She was not. These pieces sang a silent song of summoning as well, but it was muted compared to the one hanging from the chain around the woman's neck. Weylven swallowed, paralyzed in fear. How would the people of Middle Earth ever defeat Sauron if this was the power he had cumulated over the centuries? Still, she would not be doing her part if she did not at least try to steal these and destroy them in the fires of Mount Doom. And she could not even alert Elrond and Galadriel of this danger!

Slowly, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, the elf began to creep forward. A sudden movement from the bearded man who reminded her so much of Saruman caused her to freeze. Steel flashed in his hand as he grabbed the woman's hand in his own and slashed downward. The raucous cheering from the pirates suddenly cut off and an expectant hush took it's place. The woman winced as blood ran down her palm and onto the medallion she held in a tight fist and looked at the man holding her in surprise.

"Waste not," The man smiled as he forced her hand open. The medallion, shining red with blood, fell into the chest. The man stepped back, releasing the woman. A rapturous expression fell over his visage as he looked upward with arms outspread. After a moment he opened his eyes.

"Well did it work?" One of the pirates demanded.

Instead of answering in words, the bearded man took out what Jack called a 'pistol' and aimed it at the pirate who had spoken.

A sharp bang resonated throughout the chamber and Weylven jumped startled. What kind of magic was this? The device seemed only to produce a cloud of smoke and noise, for nothing happened. The pirate who had been on the receiving end looked down at his chest incredulously.

"I'm alive. Hey wait! He _shot _me!" Weylven was puzzled by his remark. How could noise and smoke kill a man?

The pirates assembled began growling angrily, moving towards the bearded man as if they sought to tear him apart. The man, however, quickly asserted his superiority and frantically turned to the woman. He seized her in a harsh grip and shook her angrily.

"Was your father William Turner? Answer me!"

Defiance shone clearly in the womans eyes as she answered smugly. "No."

Weylven found it hard not to react when he viciously backhanded the woman across the face and sent her tumbling down the small slope behind where she had stood. The elf could see her sprawled motionlessly at the water's edge, but there was no way she could get to her. No cover could guard her between her current place and where the woman lay. The pirates would surely notice her and capture wasn't exactly part of the mission. Weylven listened closely for the woman's breathing, or any sign that she lived. Yes, there it was. She was breathing shallowly; it was faint, but steady. Weylven turned her attention back to other matters.

Shielding herself with mounds of treasure, Weylven crept forward, careful not to disturb anything that might alert the pirates to her presence. They were arguing among themselves now, debating what to do next. Several demanded they slit the woman's throat and spill all of her blood, just in case. Just as the bearded man was turning back to get the woman, something caught Weylven's eye. Swimming silently through the water was Will. He did not see her, and she could not get his attention short of making noise as his eyes were riveted to the woman. He woke her with a touch and guided her into the water so they could make their escape, taking the medallion with them. The elf thought quickly. The pirates would notice them before they could get safely away and then all would be for naught.

Swallowing any fear she might have, Weylven stepped out of hiding. She would bring the distraction needed for them to get away. She would not let this Fellowship fail, even if it meant sacrificing herself.

Just as the bearded man's gaze would have fallen on the spot where the woman had until just recently been, his eyes snapped to where Weylven stood. She smiled at him, drawing her bow and, with an arrow already nocked, pulled the string back.

"Care to play, servant of Sauron?" She kept her voice light, but the threat was obvious.

"Grab her!" He ordered his crew.

Weylven did not even bother to fire at them. She knew she could not kill them, but her distraction had to be long enough for Will and the woman to get away. Before the pirates could reach her, she stowed away her bow and drew her sword. She wouldn't win, but she would fight till the bitter end if necessary. By the end the pirates had overwhelmed her, holding her arms behind her back so she couldn't get away or draw another weapon, and the bearded man had looked to where the woman should have been, Will had gotten her safely away and no trace remained of them.

"The medallion! She's taken it! To the boats!" Weylven was dragged after them as they poured into the tunnels in pursuit of quarry that had hopefully already gone.

_A/N: I hope that chapter made up for the last one. REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!_


	7. A Prisoner of Pirates

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

_A/N: Don't kill me! Sorry it took so long to update, I've been having writers block on all my stories. Thanks to my reviewers DanCrazed, Sugar-high Pixie, RikdoOsaka, and Single-Black-Rose. I luv you all, now, I'll stop rambling and continue with the story. _

Chapter 6

A Prisoner of Pirates

"The oars are gone! Find them!"

Weylven smiled as the pirates milled about the boats, frantically searching for their means of propulsion. The sound of unsteady footsteps in her sensitive ears caught her notice and she turned her head slightly to see the source. Out of the corner of her eye Weylven saw Jack staggering forward, his gaze bleary and confused. In one hand he held a single wooden oar, using it to prop himself up. To late he realized he was amidst hostile pirates.

"You!" A pirate exclaimed catching sight of Jack.

"You?" Another asked confused. "You're supposed to be dead."

"Am I not?" Was Jack's slurred answer. Weylven grimaced as she noticed a sizable knot on the back of his head. Someone had most likely clubbed him and then gotten away. From the startlement apparent on every face around her it hadn't been one of those present. That left only one who knew Jack was here. A sour taste filled her mouth as the implications of this simple fact flooded her mind.

There was the audible click of those odd 'pistols' and Jack froze. She was still not sure what damage smoke and noise could do, but everyone else seemed to think they were dangerous.

Faced at gunpoint, the unsteady pirate began stuttering strange syllables, only some of which Weylven recognized. Parsnip? Pasley? What did these words have to do with their current situation.

"Parley?" A pirate asked. Weylven began to sense that he was not nimble of thought.

"Parley! That's the one! Parley!" Jack exclaimed, confusing the elf further. How could Jack attempt a truce or even negotiate one when both she and he were at the mercy of their enemies? Apparently the word had some significance, most likely in the pirate code Will had been so curious about, for the next words spoken were, "Parley? Damn to the depths whatever man thought up parley."

"That would be the French." Jack said this as if everyone knew who these French were, but the nation was unfamiliar to Weylven. She was sure no kingdom of Men, Elves, Dwarves, nor Hobbits went by that name. The name was dissimilar to any of Middle Earth. Perhaps she was farther from home than she previously thought.

_A/N: Ahhh, Weylven is finally realizing she's not in Kansas anymore, not that she ever was, but you know what I mean. I'm sorry it's short but I have really bad writer's block and I'm focusing on a manuscript for publishing right now and the deadline I set myself for finishing it is new years... I'm only halfway there... Anyway, I thought something was better than nothing. I apologize once again for the shortness and long wait. Please review anyway though. My cat Jelly Bean says "Hi" by the way._


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